


Promises Made To Long-Dead Men

by stormbourne



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Rough Sex, dimitri's massive royal cock, this is just pwp shrug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23800426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbourne/pseuds/stormbourne
Summary: On a request from Rodrigue, and remembering a promise made to reunite at the Millennium Festival, Felix Hugo Fraldarius arrives at Garreg Mach intending to assess whether it would be a good base for the Faerghan rebellion. Of course, in the ruins there's a prowling lion, and it's one that isn't entirely convinced that Felix is real.HAPPY BIRTHDAY BITCH!!
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 134





	Promises Made To Long-Dead Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LandOfMistAndSecrets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LandOfMistAndSecrets/gifts).



> kicks down the door and throws a birthday cake at ur face. COURTESY OF YOUR WIFE!!! HAPPY BDAY

The last few steps leading from the ransacked villages up to the monastery grounds were mostly rubble. Felix Hugo Fraldarius told himself for the sixteenth time so far today that coming here had been a mistake, even as he pulled himself up and over the ruin that had once been carved stone. 

"What am I, a child putting all my faith in fairy tales?" he scoffed at himself. 

What other description was there for what he was doing? Following the words of a foolish promise made by a boy who had once upon a time been Felix's best friend. Before the war, before Duscur. It wasn't even difficult to remember the days before Glenn had died, though it was horrendously embarrassing. 

He pushed the memories away, stepping out onto the monastery's grounds. The sun was sinking in the western sky, casting long shadows across the ruin of what had once been Felix's school. 

The more he walked the campus, the more clear it became that there was no one else there. Sylvain and Ingrid would likely arrive by morning, but Felix's heart sank a little all the same. He wasn't sure why he had expected anyone else to show up for this silly promise they'd all made one another as children. 

He wasn't sure why he'd hoped, against all possible logic, to see one face in specific. 

The boar prince was dead, and everyone knew it. Rodrigue had spies in every corner of Cornelia's dukedom, reporting to him if so much as a whisper of the missing heir passed their ears. But the truth was that Dimitri was not, and never had been, missing. He was dead. He was executed by Cornelia for crimes against the Emperor, as well as false charges against Faerghus itself. No faint, naive hope that he had escaped would change that fact. 

But that hope remained regardless, gnawing at the corner of Felix's heart as he wandered the grounds. He pushed it aside for the moment, noting what parts of the monastery were in disrepair. It was a strategic location, and ideal for striking back at the Adrestians. The mountains served as natural defenses. The dormitories were still largely intact, and the barracks that had originally housed the monastery guard were practically untouched. He would need to tell Rodrigue that his instincts had been correct, and this would serve as a good base of operations. 

There was no need, strategically, to inspect the chapel. There was little it could do for their defense. All he needed to do was find a safe place to sleep for the night and prepare a letter to send in the morning. 

Regardless, his feet turned toward the cathedral, and Felix let his mind roam as he walked the same path he'd taken so many times as a boy. The boar had been fond of prayer, especially in the last weeks after Adrestia had declared war. And Felix, despite himself, had tailed him more than once, watching his condition worsen further and further, day by day.

The chapel was in worse shape than anywhere else. Likely, Felix thought, the Adrestians had taken special pleasure in destroying it. There were several holes in the roof, rubble strewn across the floor. The pews were overturned. Several of the stained glass windows were shattered. Anything of worth had likely long since been picked over. He could see practically a wall of rubble against the far wall, covering the altar that had once been there.

He stopped in his tracks halfway through the church, peering up through the gaps in the roofwork. The first stars were starting to come out. If the monastery still stood, tomorrow would have been the Millennium Festival. Likely there would have been another ball, and the boar would have once again stammered and blushed his way through one dance after another before coming to Felix's quarters, ever so slightly drunk, laughing as he scolded Felix for leaving early. Pulling Felix close. Raking his hands through Felix's hair as they kissed.

Felix swallowed hard, and lowered his eyes from the broken ceiling. His eyes slid down until they found a shadow that he hadn't noticed standing in the chapel a few moments ago. His mouth went dry. The figure was mostly a silhouette in the dimming evening light, but he could make out a thick fur around the shoulders of a tall, broad-shouldered man with pale hair.

For all the times Felix had told himself that Dimitri was dead, some part of him had hoped for this moment. Dreamed of it, even. Stumbling across the prince, alive and unharmed, and the two of them leading Faerghus back to freedom. 

He took a few halting steps forward, only to come to a stop when the man before him looked over his shoulder and caught Felix's eye with his own. Closer, now, Felix could tell that his pale hair was a matted, unwashed blond, and that the concept of "unharmed" had been perhaps too much to hope for. 

The creature -- it was no man, Felix could see that now -- grunted, and turned more fully toward him. He wore a stained cloak over filthy armor, scratched and scarred from Goddess knew how many battles. It took Felix a long moment to realize that the dark spot on the boar's face was a patch covering his right eye. Underneath his nest of filthy hair, the prince wore a look of faint confusion. 

Felix didn't dare to take another step. But then, he didn't need to. Dimitri kept moving. 

"Glenn?" he said, and before Felix could even react, "No. No, that's not right, is it?" His perplexed frown deepened, and he paused several steps away from Felix, reaching out toward him without being close enough to touch. "Felix," he continued. "That is you, isn't it?" 

"Boar," Felix managed to croak. He fought to find what else to say. _I thought you were dead. How long have you been hiding here? Why didn't you come find us? Do you know what this did to me?_ He took a step forward after all. 

Now, suddenly, Dimitri was the one to step back. He shook his head, a strange, deep sorrow filling his expression. "I didn't know," he said. "I'm sorry, Felix. But please, give me time. I'll make sure that she pays for this. For you, for Glenn. For all of it."

Felix blinked, not understanding the words for a long moment. Then, all at once, the understanding of what Dimitri was saying flooded him with hot, sick fury. 

"I'm not _dead,_ you stupid animal," he barked, and moved forward another step. As he drew closer, he could make out the dark ring under Dimitri's remaining eye, the brush of untended stubble across his cheeks. As he stepped further forward, Dimitri stumbled further back, still looking faintly confused. "Don't confuse me with your fucking phantoms. Don't try to pin your sick revenge quest on me. As if I would ever egg on your madness, even if I was dead." 

The boar grunted, his back to the rubblel now, his face still confused. Felix stepped closer, close enough to grab him by the collar and yank his face down to Felix's level.

"Five years I looked for you, you bastard," he hissed. "Five years, I told myself you were dead, or you would have sent word to me. To Sylvain, to Ingrid, to _anyone._ And you've been here. This whole time, you've been _here._ "

Dimitri's confusion faded into what seemed to be apathy. The faint light in his eye went dull. "This is my duty to fulfill," he said, voice flat. "I couldn't involve anyone else."

"Bullshit, you couldn't," Felix snarled. "What was stopping you? Why wouldn't you tell your _people_ that you still lived? Let them -- let _us_ think that Cornelia killed you, that House Blaiddyd was gone for good, that -- "

"Cornelia," Dimitri murmured. "Yes, Felix, I'll kill her for you, too. Of course I will. Is that why you're here? To remind me?" 

"I'm not fucking dead!" Felix barked in his prince's face. 

Dimitri closed his one eye, shaking his head, and reached up to pry Felix's fingers from his collar. Felix struggled against Dimitri's grip, but the boar didn't even seem to notice his resistance. His confused expression had changed into one of dawning understanding.

"It's all right," the boar said. "I understand. You need to test me. To be sure of my commitment. All of you need to be sure of it. It's all right, Felix. I'll kill them for you. Cornelia and Edelgard both, I swear." 

"Boar," Felix said, finally managing to wrench his hands away from Dimitri's. "Do you even know where you are?" Dimitri blinked at him, brow furrowing. Felix let out a sigh and reached forward to shove Dimitri back against the wall. "Your ghosts, do they do this? Push you around, scold you for being an imbecile?" 

Dimitri shrugged. He looked like the answer didn't concern him in the least. "I suppose it's not impossible," he said. His eye had gone dull and dark again, like he wasn't really looking at or listening to Felix, but to someone -- or something -- else. "Who knows what can happen in the afterworld? You'd do whatever you needed to test me." 

The frustration and relief warred inside Felix. He couldn't stand seeing Dimitri before him, barely a semblance of the man he once was. More an animal than ever before, his face and armor stained with old blood. It was easy to see that there was nothing Felix could say to him to pull him out of his madness. He would stay convinced that Felix was a shade come to haunt him, regardless of what Felix said otherwise. 

He released Dimitri.

"Fine," he said, turning away. "Be ridiculous. I'm going to send word to Sylvain and Ingrid that you're ..." _Alive_ seemed like an overstatement. "That you're here. They'll never believe me until they see you. It's not the first time I've claimed to know where you were hiding." 

"I know," Dimitri said, and when Felix looked back at him, shrugged again as if to say he couldn't help it. "You nearly found me, in Charon lands. Before Edelgard must have killed you." A darkness passed over his face. "And Sylvain and Ingrid as well, I suppose." 

"They're not dead, either, you idiot," Felix said. He couldn't stand to look at the wild creature anymore, to continue attempting to ram common sense down its throat. The boar blinked slowly at him, its eyebrow furrowing, and he turned fully away, retreating from the cathedral like it held all the terrors of hell within it. 

The beast found him again in the classroom yard, where Felix had set up a bonfire. The doors to the dining hall had been closed and barricaded, and he'd leave getting them open to men with more resources. He had enough rations to keep himself alive throughout the night, and if the boar had lived for, apparently, some time in these ruins, then obviously he didn't need any help from Felix to survive. 

"Is your father still alive?" his voice asked at Felix's back as Felix squinted over the letter he'd started, explaining to Rodrigue that the prince had been spared after all, but he'd lost what remained of his humanity. 

"Will you believe me even if I tell you?" Felix asked instead of answering. The beast didn't say another word, but Felix watched as he circled the bonfire like an animal that didn't know whether to trust it. When he stood opposite from Felix, he paused and stepped closer, the flickering firelight casting long, dark shadows over his face. 

"Sylvain and Ingrid," he started. 

"They're on their way here," Felix said. "My father sent us to see if Garreg Mach could be used as a base of operations against Cornelia." _And Edelgard,_ he didn't say, because he didn't want to hear the response he knew Dimitri would give. The last thing he needed was to set the boar on another fantasy of vengeance. "You should be pleased. We might have dismissed the entire idea, if not for the promise _you_ had all of us make, five years ago."

The boar raised his chin, and Felix watched his throat bob as he swallowed. 

"Yes," he said, his ragged voice gone strangely soft. "I remember that promise. The Millennium Festival. I thought it might be a bit childish for a man like you." 

"It is," Felix said, and decided he wouldn't bother to defend himself further than that. He had, after all, spent the entire journey here wondering if it had been a mistake fueled by naive hope. 

The prince sank down into a sitting position. He held a near-broken, rusted lance in one hand, leaning on it like a walking stick. It fell against his shoulder as he all but crumpled to the ground. His single remaining eye followed Felix from across the fire.

For quite some time, neither of them spoke. Felix waited, watching the boar, but he seemed content to simply keep vigil on Felix without words, so he went back to writing his letter. He fought his way through the web of words like he was cutting down overgrown vines. How was he meant to explain what he had discovered? What it meant, not only for Faerghus, but for him? His deepest duty had returned from beyond the grave, and didn't seem to care one whit about what it was he wanted from it. 

What did he want?

It was a thing to consider. Had he expected Dimitri to be his old self? He'd always known better than that. Long before everyone had been sighing about how tragic it was to see the prince of Faerghus in such a state, Felix had seen the beast hiding under the mask. And yet his mind kept drifting to the encounters they'd had with one another while attending classes. There had been no small number of them. The one after the ball was the most memorable, but there had been plenty of others. In the training yard, in Dimitri's quarters, one spectacularly embarrassing incident where Felix had nearly passed out in the sauna. 

Was that the thing he had been hoping for, coming here? For the beast to be waiting as well, specifically for him, so that they could resume their arrangement? That was more childish than any other thought Felix had entertained about the entire affair.

When he glanced up again, Dimitri's gaze had not wavered from where it was locked on him. 

"What do you want, boar?" Felix asked the question before he registered it was even forming, much less before he could stop himself. "I know you've decided that I'm one of your hauntings, isn't that right? Are you waiting for me to demand blood? To needle you for details about your planned and glorious vengeance?" 

The boar shook his head almost invisibly. 

"What, then?" Felix demanded. He didn't even wait for a response before returning to his letter. He'd left off mid-paragraph, just after the line _Dimitri is here. I found him in the ruins._ What was he supposed to say after that? Beg his father to hurry to the monastery? Inform him that the heir to House Blaiddyd had gone wild and mad? Or strike the whole line altogether and say he'd found no one in the ruins, and that the monastery was too damaged to serve any purpose in their rebellion? He didn't have an answer.

Neither, apparently, did Dimitri. He gazed, unmoving, at Felix. He didn't even so much as blink, his eye like a blue ember somewhere behind the flames. 

"Boar," Felix said. 

"Do you know what Glenn looked like, when he died?" the prince said at last. Felix's throat went bone-dry, and he fought to find words -- even just a demand of what, exactly, Dimitri thought he was doing. The boar's eye met his own, and his chin rose another degree, making him look almost imperious. "Do you know how he was sobbing? Begging for someone to please, just save him, anyone at all?" The boar leaned forward, pushing up from his crouched position like a great cat about to pounce. "He could barely see anything, by the time I found him. He could barely still speak. And yet, he begged, desperately. Save me, please, I don't want to die." 

The boar climbed, slowly, to his feet. Now he took even, measured steps around the fire toward Felix, inspecting him like a trapped animal. Felix refused to be cowed. He stayed where he was, simply watching Dimitri advance.

A few steps away, Dimitri paused. He was still leaning on the lance he carried. Felix could see old bandaging, dark with blood, under one edge of his armor. The cloak he wore dragged behind him, matted with dirt and blood and Goddess knew what else. 

"If you had died like he had, you would understand why I have to repay his suffering," Dimitri said. 

"How inconvenient for you that I still just think you're a crazed animal, then," Felix said, and returned his attention to his letter. He tapped his quill against the paper, frowning. 

"That is, I admit, what puzzles me," Dimitri continued. Felix resisted the urge to look up at him. Obviously, the boar still believed that Felix was one of his phantoms, manifested to haunt him into wild, crazed vengeance. Likely he had already written an entire fantasy of how Felix had been killed, and how he'd begged for Edelgard's death as he perished. "I suppose you could be angry that I didn't know. Was it that woman, Felix? The emperor, gone mad with lust for power? Or was it her loyal dog, Cornelia? Perhaps -- "

"I'm not dead," Felix said. He got to his feet. The boar prince loomed over him. He had put on at least a few inches since Felix had last seen him. It felt like considerably more than that. "I don't know what it's going to take to make you see sense, boar, but I'm real. I am standing here before you, alive. I've been fighting for the country you _abandoned._ The people you left behind." 

Dimitri's eye scanned Felix's face.

"Like you?" he said. His voice was almost mocking. "Is that what you mean to say, Felix? You are angry that I left you behind?" He stepped closer. His shape blocked out the moon overhead. "Or are you angry that I could not save you from the witch of the south, in your hour of need? Will you be satisfied if I give you her head?"

"Fuck you," Felix said, and shoved Dimitri back as he turned away. A second later, one of Dimitri's thick arms wrapped itself around Felix's waist. The beast yanked Felix back, off of his feet, and held him with the ease that a grown man might restrain a struggling kitten. 

"Tomorrow is the Millennium Festival, Felix," Dimitri murmured against his ear. "Five years ago, we promised to all meet one another again. I've been waiting here. I wanted to see if anyone would still come." His other hand came up to brush the tips of his clawed gauntlets over Felix's neck. "And you were the first one to come and find me. Surely, I thought, the only reason that Felix would look for me is to beg for me to avenge his death. He would never come to find me, otherwise. Not ... as I am, now." 

"You're a complete idiot if you ever thought I wouldn't find you," Felix gasped. Dimitri pulled his hand away from Felix's throat and released him. Felix stumbled forward, rubbing at his throat. "The son of House Fraldarius, dedicated knights and advisors to House Blaiddyd, and your sworn shield," he continued, not letting himself turn to look at the beast behind him. "You're an imbecile. I would find you, no matter where you went. Here or anywhere else. Even if I had to chase you through Ailell and out the other side." 

Dimitri let out a growl behind him. 

"Spare me," Felix said, before the boar could say a word. "Don't bother telling me you don't understand why I'm here, or why I didn't just give up on you. Don't be that stupid. You know the answer to every single one of those questions."

"I suppose I do," Dimitri said in a low rumble of breath. Then he was at Felix's back again, leaning forward, pressing his face against Felix's neck. His fingers fumbled with the belts at Felix's waist. 

"What the fuck!" Felix hissed, shoving the prince's hands away. "What do you think you're doing, boar? Get off of me." 

"Felix," Dimitri murmured. Felix paused in his struggle, flinching. There was an undertone of desperate hope in the prince's uneven tone. "If you're -- if you're real, Felix, I need to be sure that -- " He swallowed, loud and thick, his breath ragged. "I need to know you're real," he said. He sounded, for an instant, like the boy he'd been before Edelgard had marched on the monastery with the armies of the Empire at her back. His grip on Felix scrabbled, then relaxed entirely, and Felix managed at last to whirl around. 

In the light of the bonfire, the way the prince had gone to waste was once again stark and impossible to ignore. Felix could see uneven bruising under his eyes, the shadow of his stubble, lines of scars he didn't recognize across the skin of Dimitri's neck. And, in return, scars that Felix was more than familiar with, worn and grown faint with the years that hung between the two of them. 

"I found your old room," the boar said, as though sharing a secret. "Do you remember that last night before the army came? I came to see you. It was late. I couldn't sleep. You'd been there for me so many times, since we started classes, and my father -- my stepmother -- all of them were so -- "

"I don't want to think about it," Felix said. He remembered the night too well, frankly. He remembered waking up at some ungodly hour of the morning, only to see Dimitri peering out the window, unresponsive to Felix's voice. 

"I do," Dimitri said. His hands found Felix's cheeks as he drew ever closer. Felix stared up at the boar prince's single remaining eye, flickering with something that might have been hope and might have been madness. "I've thought about it often, since I came here," he said. He lingered within a breath of Felix's face. "But it's never been real. Always just within the confines of my mind, the shadows watching, waiting to resume their demands. I need -- I need to know that this is real. That _you're_ real."

He closed the rest of the distance between them, pulling their mouths together. Felix didn't fight him, but he didn't melt like he had when they were younger. He stood stiff against Dimitri, fingers twitching as he debated just how mad his prince had gone. Whether or not he ought to put a stop to this. How much he would regret it come morning. 

And, on the other hand, how much he needed it.

It had been nearly five years since Dimitri's so-called execution. Some part of Felix had never really believed it, and he had spent much of those five years searching for some sign of him. But every moment of hope or belief that the boar yet lived was tempered with as much, if not more disappointment as every trail turned cold and every rumor turned to wind. The lands of the Faerghan rebellion lost more and more ground to Cornelia's coup with each passing month. The years were long, cold, and lonely, and with many a dark moment where Felix considered what his last words to the boar prince had been. The heir to the Blaiddyd line, his sacred duty and once-best friend, and Felix could not remember the last thing he had said.

"Boar," he groaned, when Dimitri tugged away from him. The animal blinked down at him, his mane of wild, filthy hair making him look like a lion in truth. "Don't make me regret this," he said. Something dark passed over Dimitri's face, and he nodded. Then his hands went to Felix's belt once again. 

This time, he didn't fumble at all; his clawed fingertips undid the buckle with ease, and Dimitri went about undressing him. Felix fought to find some sort of balance between the two of them, peeling off pieces of Dimitri's armor along the way as well. Soon enough, they both sat in their underclothes beside the bonfire, which flickered wildly as it burned itself out. Dimitri's things were ragged and filthy in comparison to Felix's. Through the thin cloth, Felix could make out more new scars and patches of bandaging from unhealed wounds across Dimitri's torso. It was anyone's guess how much longer he could have kept this going before getting himself killed. 

"Felix," the boar murmured. He sounded practically breathless. His hand, thick and warm as ever, carded through Felix's hair, tugging it loose to fall around his shoulders. Felix lay back on his open bedroll, the stars spread out across the evening sky. The beast prince, still more animal than man even now that he'd shedded his filthy fur cape, followed his movement. "You're real," he said, wondering, as his hand slid down Felix's neck, then skittered down his torso to undo his laces. 

How many times had Felix fantasized about this, in his years of following Dimitri's trail? He'd thought himself pathetic every time, with his foolist fantasy of being fucked by a man who was very likely dead. A man that he'd had his fate tied to since the day he was born. His future king, his first friend, and his childhood crush. 

He could do nothing but help Dimitri open his underthings and pull himself out. Dimitri cradled him with care, which made Felix somehow angrier. The beast before him didn't deserve the ability to be gentle. He'd lost the right to play at kindness long ago. Felix shoved him back. 

"Fuck me hard, or not at all," he said. "I'm not here for you to treat like a glass doll, boar. Live up to your name, if you want your proof that I'm real." 

That same darkness flashed over Dimitri's face. His eye went flat, and for a long moment, Felix got the impression that Dimitri didn't see him at all. 

Then the moment passed. The boar lowered his head and nodded before moving. He flipped Felix over with barely a thought and climbed over him, grinding against him from behind. Felix hissed, the hot pressure of Dimitri's dick still within what remained of his clothes. It was as big as Felix ever could have remembered it. Bigger, possibly, and a flush washed over his features as he considered that thought. Dimitri, behind him, didn't seem to care what he was thinking about.

"Hard or not at all, is it," he grunted. "Then like a beast, Felix, would you like that? A reminder of what it is I've become." The boar prince let out a wild, uneven laugh. "Or, rather, what I was all along. Just like you always knew, didn't you?" 

Felix didn't bother to deny it. The pressure at his back pulled away, but he didn't raise himself up to turn around. He knew he didn't need to bother. And, indeed, in another moment, Dimitri was grinding against him once more, but without his underclothes on. 

"Well, then," he hissed. "Do it, you stupid boar." 

There was a part of him that hoped for some kind of catharsis. Maybe this would cure the sickness that had ravaged his mind for the past five years -- the obsession with a man who he'd been told was dead. The desperation to find some hint of him, alive in the dark underbelly of Fodlan or even hidden somewhere abroad -- that naive, idiotic hope had grown in Felix's heart like a tumor. The least that he could hope for was that being reminded of the savage truth of who Dimitri _was_ would excise that venom from him. 

He already knew it was an even more childish wish than the promise to reunite that had brought him here. 

Trying to fight his love for Dimitri was like trying to fight the tide, or the cold northern winds that blew through Fhirdiad when the Red Wolf Moon cast its long nights across Faerghus. It was a force of nature, something subconscious and intrinsic. He could never change or remove it, the same way that a raindrop could never fight against the current of a river. 

"Felix," the boar hummed behind him. His hand slipped between Felix's legs, fingers probing at his entrance. Felix kicked one leg and felt it connect with the side of Dimitri's shin. 

"I said hard or not at all," he said, and Dimitri grunted again. "Listen this time. I won't repeat it again." Dimitri's hand retreated. For a long moment, Felix thought that might be the end of it, and that Dimitri might snap to his senses, or refuse to indulge Felix's request. But in the end, he needn't have worried. A moment later, Dimitri's hands gripped his ass, and something hot and thick pressed against Felix.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," the boar said. There was that same darkness in his voice now. 

"I intend to do no such thing," Felix said. The hands on his hips tightened, and then Dimitri began to push into him. 

It had been almost five years since they had last done this. The last time had been the night before the Adrestians marched on the monastery, and even then, Dimitri had barely been himself. Felix had come to recognize that night as a desperate, last-ditch attempt on his part to drag the boar, kicking and screaming, back into the real world. It had, of course, not been enough, the same way he doubted this would be. 

To his credit, Dimitri didn't stop. He pushed forward, further and further, until he had fully hilted. Then he paused, breathing hard behind Felix. One of his hands squeezed and kneaded at Felix's ass. Felix had lost track of where the other was, until a moment later, his king's hand closed around his dick and stroked in a way that set Felix's tense nerves afire. 

Behind him, he heard the boar start to speak. "Don't say so much as a single word, right now," Felix threatened in turn. He couldn't fathom what would be worse -- the boar, feral and wild, speaking to him as a friend, or the boar speaking to him like a plaything, a dalliance that didn't matter. There were worse options than either one, of course, but he refused to let himself consider them. 

Dimitri grunted in response. "As you wish, then," he said. Just as Felix was about to scold him for speaking regardless, he began to move, and Felix's mind whited out into pure light and haze. 

It had been long enough since he had last done this that the sensation became all the more intense. Felix clenched his hands into fists against the rough winter soil. Deliriously, he wished he'd kept his gloves on. Dimitri, behind him, let out a moan and rolled his hips upward. It had, at first, been an uncomfortable stretch, but the more Dimitri moved, the more accustomed Felix became to the motion. It was like learning the sword -- even if Felix ever fell out of practice, his body remembered. It helped that Dimitri found, almost immediately, an angle that made Felix cry out on every stroke. His dick ached between his legs, and, as if aware of it, Dimitri gave it an almost cruel squeeze. 

"Goddess, oh, hell," Dimitri gasped.

"I told you," Felix answered, "not to fucking talk." 

"You're real," Dimitri replied, between ragged breaths. "Oh, hells, Felix, I -- " 

Felix didn't want to hear another word, so he moved for the boar instead. He thrust his hips back, crying out as Dimitri's dick pushed deep into him. He would never truly be used to that sensation, he thought. No matter how much he recognized the rest, the push and pull, the lightning-hot ache in his gut, he would never grow used to just how Dimitri fit inside him. Like he belonged there. Like they were just two pieces of the same whole. That, Felix thought between dizzy, heavy breaths, was a horrendously romantic thought. He could never let a single soul know he'd had it. 

The boar, at least, took guidance well. As though Felix had reminded him, he picked his pace back up again. Deeper, harder, faster, rocking and bucking until Felix could barely breathe between thrusts. His hand, still around Felix's dick, found an off rhythm, squeezing and stroking in the moments when Dimitri was otherwise not moving, just to keep Felix from having any kind of reprieve. 

"Harder," Felix gasped. He was dimly aware there were tears streaming down his cheeks from desperate overstimulated pleasure. Sylvain and Ingrid were still on their way to the monastery, he only had half a letter to his father finished, and his future king was fucking him into the dirt like a wild beast. "And faster, boar, damn you." 

He didn't hear Dimitri's response, but he felt it. His hips rocked faster and faster still, as though Dimitri was losing control of himself, until at last, he yanked Felix back, tight, against him, pulling him almost upright in his desperation. His hand reached down and squeezed at Felix's dick, then at his balls, one and then the other.

"Fuck," Felix gasped, and as his future king squeezed his cock one more time, just over the edge into pain, he lost control of himself. 

Dimitri, at least, didn't need long, either. Felix, numb and hazy, was aware of the prince gasping, then pushing as far as he could into Felix. Pulling back, then slamming forward once more. Twice. A third time, and Dimitri shuddered, howling like a beast in truth as he came. It was going to be hell to clean this up, Felix thought vaguely, and then let himself crumple down to the floor. The boar curled around him, a comforting weight at his back.

"Felix," he whispered.

"Dimitri," Felix replied, and closed his eyes. 

When he woke up, he couldn't be sure how long he'd been asleep, or even if he had slept at all. His dreams had been punctuated by bouts of waking to find Dimitri gazing down at him or speaking to people who were not there, and the waking and sleeping moments had blurred themselves together until Felix could no longer be sure which of them had been real. 

For the moment, though, he was alone in his bedroll. 

He shouldn't have expected anything else. The bonfire had long since died to embers. A thin, loose trail of smoke trailed up into the sky, which was colored pre-dawn greys and violets. 

The prince stood at the edge of the courtyard, looking out over the rest of the monastery. He was garbed in his stinking, heavy cloak again, matted furs and all, and he didn't so much as glance at Felix as he roused. 

Sylvain and Ingrid would be here at any time, Felix thought as he pulled his mail on over his shirt. What would they say, when they saw Dimitri like this? Felix wasn't even sure if the boar even knew he was still there. What would Felix say to his friends? What was Felix _meant_ to say to Rodrigue? 

"Felix," the prince's voice rang out. Felix looked up from pulling his belt back on. The boar had turned his head just over one of his shoulders, and Felix could see the pinprick of his remaining eye under that matted, wild mane of blond hair. 

He said nothing, but didn't turn away. The boar turned ever more slightly toward him, and then back away, looking out over the battlements. 

"If you are real," the beast continued, "then you'll have no arguments about helping me clean out the villages here. There are rats suffusing every inch of them, and I'll not stand for it." 

"I'm not here to help you clean up after outlaws," Felix said, even as he pulled on his gaiters. 

Dimitri let out a laugh. It rang, echoing, against the walls of their empty school. 

"No," he said. "I suppose not. And yet, you'll do it anyway, won't you? For me." 

Felix pulled his cape over his shoulders, feeling the warm weight of it settle against his back. "As though one of your phantoms wouldn't just do what you wanted, you idiotic boar," he grumbled. 

"No, Felix," the beast said. Felix didn't even realize he'd said it loud enough to be overheard. "That's how I know you're still real. Still waking, still alive. The others -- they want vengeance, or justice. They don't care a whit about me." Something in the rough, ragged tone of his wild prince turned wistful. "You, though. You do. You'd do anything, if you could, to help me."

"Yeah," Felix said. He pulled one of his swords into its sheath with the squeal of metal on metal. He thought he imagined it for a moment, but as Dimitri turned toward the sound, he thought he saw a small smile cross the prince's features. 

"Well," he continued, "Try not to make me regret it." 

Now he knew he hadn't imagined the smile on the boar's face, as he watched it slowly fade. Dimitri turned away from him, and, somewhere behind the mountains, the morning's first ray of sunlight began to cut through the clouds.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr [@stormsbourne](http://stormsbourne.tumblr.com) or on twitter [@stormsbourne](http://twitter.com/stormsbourne)


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